One Father, One Son
by 1967Impala
Summary: What happened that night, what they witnessed, sent one father and one son on a quest for answers. And when they find those answers, they'll find something that they've been missing for a long time...
1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester ran into the nursery with a smile. He hugged his mother quickly and ran to the crying baby, his brother, Sammy. Sammy stopped crying and smiled. Their mother, Mary Winchester, sighed with relief. Little Sammy was a good baby, but he would cry every now and again. Sometimes it was because he was hungry, but usually, it was because he wanted to see his brother. Dean was a good big brother. He rarely left the nursery. If he could get away with it, he even ate in there. Dean hated going to pre-school and would run all the way home, dragging whoever had picked him up that day, usually a neighbor but sometimes Mary would surprise him and bring Sammy to pick him up, by the hand, straight into the nursery. Mary insisted that Sammy listened to Mozart, to make him smarter. It obviously made Dean smarter, too. His teacher often complimented on his good work and said that if he kept up the good work, he would probably get a good scholarship to almost any college he would choose.

Finally, it was time for Dean to go to bed. Dean ran back into the nursery and told Sammy goodnight and turned around to see John Winchester standing in the doorway.

"Daddy!" Dean shouted with glee.

"Hey, buddy! What's up?" John asked.

"He is and he shouldn't be," joked Mary.

"Night, Mom. Night, Dad. Night, Sammy," Dean said, getting the hint. He ran out the door after giving Sammy a kiss on the forehead, and John playfully smacked his head. Dean laughed and thought, _I love my family. I hope this never changes_. Little did Dean know that his life was about to make a U-turn.

John went downstairs to watch TV and have a drink. Mary got out of the shower and into her white nightgown. She fell asleep but soon woke up to the sound of the baby monitor. Sammy was crying. She went in to check on him. John was standing over the crib.

"I got him," John said. Mary smiled and walked back down the hall. A flickering light caught her attention. She went to the light and tapped on it until it fixed itself. Then she heard a quiet noise. It was the TV. She walked downstairs and saw John fast asleep on the recliner. Mary gasped and ran up the stairs into the nursery where the man who she thought was her husband still stood there. She tried to lunge for Sammy, who, oddly enough wasn't crying. Something pinned her against the wall and dragged her up onto the ceiling. She screamed and John came running, Dean following shortly behind.

"Mary!" cried John. He ran towards the shadowy man, but he vanished just as John lunged. John looked up and saw blood all over Mary, still pinned to the ceiling. A fire started and John reached for Sammy…But Sammy was gone. John let out a cry and grabbed Dean and ran outside.

Dean was crying his brother's name over and over as John ran. Once outside and the fire was put out, Dean was still saying quietly, to himself through his tears, "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…"

John was too strong to cry for his lost little boy and dead wife. John knew something was happening and it wouldn't stop. He pulled Dean closer and let one tear slowly fall.

_Exactly 22 years later_- Dean slammed the hood of his beloved '67 Impala down. His eyes welled up with tears but he blinked them away. He knew he had to be strong for his dad. They both hated this day but every year it came. They couldn't let it get in the way. They had finally found the demon that had killed Mary and Sammy. While Dean loved his mother, he knew he was going to kill this thing once and for all in Sammy's memory. Dean got into the Impala and his dad got into his pickup. Dean followed his dad like he had done all of his life. Dean listened to AC/DC and Metallica to try to clear his mind but his usual "remedies" didn't help. He and his dad had gotten close to the demon before this, but somehow, he knew that today was the day.

Dean and John reached the abandoned warehouse where they had traced the demon to. They got out of their cars and grabbed their shotguns from their trunks. Dean also slipped the Colt into his jacket pocket. John didn't see him. He had a decoy. Dean felt that this was a personal battle for him. But, since Dean cared for his dad, he slipped one of the Colt's bullets into the decoy gun. Dean shook the kinks out of his body. John was a deadly silent and still. They cocked their guns and opened the door.

"Dad, this is too easy," Dean said warily. John opened his mouth, about to respond when the door slammed behind them and locked. They couldn't kick the door down so they decided to keep on going and see if they could find another exit, but both knew that they wouldn't find anything good in this building.

Dean and John wandered around the building, guns at the ready. For fifteen nerve-wracking minutes neither of them saw anything.

"There!" Dean said and shot the rock salt filled gun at the shadow that passed by. Father and son ran after the shadow. They stopped when they saw that the shadow could have gone two different ways. Should they go right or straight?

"You go straight, I'll go right," said John. Dean was about to refuse when John said, "No arguing Dean! Go!" Dean half-heartedly ran straight and kept looking back to see his father turn right.

Dean ran but there was nothing but hallway. Suddenly, he smelled sulphur and heard a faint noise right behind him. Slowly, he turned around, but he already knew what it was. The Demon. In a 6'4 brown hair and yellow eyed form of pure evil.

"What? No Daddy to save you?" asked the Demon mockingly. The Demon threw Dean against the wall and pinned him there with his mind. "You know, your Mommy-Dearest screamed for her life. She said to take someone else's life. She was a coward!" snarled the Demon.

"LIAR!" screamed Dean in agony. The Demon raised Dean into the air and twisted his arms until Dean cried out in pain.

"Do you even remember your little brother Sammy?" spat the Demon. "I doubt it. You probably forgot all about him."

"I would never forget about Sammy!" screamed Dean. A tear fell. He didn't know whether it was from the physical pain or the emotional pain.

"Every morning you forget! That first blissful moment, right? Nothing is wrong in little Dean's world! Not in that first minute of each morning!" The Demon laughed mockingly. "Did you know your Daddy never forgets? He envies you. Every morning he secretly watches you in your minute in heaven."

"Shut up!" Dean cries. "I don't forget! Ever!" But, Dean knew the Demon was right. The first mornings were the worst, but slowly the wounds began to heal. But, whenever they got close to the Demon, that "minute in heaven" got shorter and shorter.

The Demon kept mocking and taunting, but Dean was crying silently and somehow didn't hear him. Dean's mind kept traveling back to that one night, that one awful night…

Dean stopped crying and turned red with anger. He thought about the countless times he had seen two brothers playing together and wished he could have had that with Sammy. He broke from the Demon's grasp and grabbed the Colt. He cocked, aimed, and started to squeeze the trigger.

"This is for SAMMY!" He put more pressure on the trigger but stopped when the Demon's eyes changed colors. Against his better judgment, Dean lowered the gun. The Demon looked around confused. It finally looked at Dean and just stared. Then it spoke, but not in the same voice or tone.

"Dean?" the Demon asked.

"Sammy?"


	2. Chapter 2

One Father, One Son

Author's Note: Thanks for the kind words! This is the end of my first fan fiction so bear with me through all the sadness of this chapter. Sammy is a bit different but bear with me...

The Demon was possessing his baby brother, but now Sammy wasn't such a baby. Dean was dazed. Them he snapped back into it when the yellow eyes came back. Dean was now angrier than ever. That demon had his baby brother. He raised the gun again, but couldn't bring himself to shoot it. After all, it was his brother.

"Dean! Drop!" It was John. Instinct kicking in Dean dropped and then sprang up again when he realized what John meant to do.

"Dad! Don't!" Dean shouted. John hesitated and then positioned himself to re-aim. "Dad! The Demon has Sammy! That's Sammy's body!" Dean had just caught a glimpse of his long lost brother and he didn't want to lose him again. Dean lunged for John's decoy Colt. Dean thought to himself, _Why did I have to put that bullet I there?_ Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought, _because you love your dad even though you would never tell him._

John, surprised that his son was giving the orders, hesitated yet again. His body snapped into action once Dean lunged. John dived out of the way. The Demon was laughing at them the whole time.

"Dean, that's not your brother! That's just what the Demon wanted you to think!" John said, trying to convince his grief stricken son. Dean begged for him not to shoot.

"Dad, I made Sammy a promise that I would always take care of him on the day he was born. I promised that I would never let anything happen to him! Please, Dad!"

John was torn. While he could see the resemblance in the Demon and what Sammy would have looked liked, John knew that demons could play tricks with your mind. Dean threw the real Colt down in frustration. The Demon laughed mockingly at his handiwork of turning father against son. John clenched his jaw and shot the Demon. Black smoke spewed out of the mouth of the possessed person and flew out a window.

Dean cried out and ran over to the body. Wait, Dean thought. A body? Of a dead demon? He glanced over at John. John sat against the wall crying. Dean hurried back to the body. He examined the body and saw that John had shot it in the leg. He shook the Sammy.

"Come on, Sammy! Come on! I'm not losing you again!" Dean told the still body. John crawled over.

"Dean, are you sure that this—"

"Yes, Dad! I know my own little brother!" Dean shouted in frustration. He started shaking the body harder and harder.

"Dean! Stop it! Think about this! The Demon had this person—"

"Sammy! It's Sammy!" Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"Okay, Sammy. The Demon has had Sammy for twenty-two years! Now I know he probably didn't use Sammy as a child, then again this is one sick demon, but this demon was big. Imagine what Sammy's been through!" John said as he tried to reason with his son. John put a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean shrugged him off and shook with silent tears. Suddenly he heard a quiet voice.

"Dean…"

"Sammy?" Dean looked down and Sammy's eyes were half way open.

"Dad! We need to get Sammy to a hospital!" Dean shouted and he tried to lift Sammy. He knew it was too late but brotherly love blinded him to that fact.

"Dean, it's…it's too late for me…" Sammy whispered. He was so tired. He had been stuck in that body for three years. Other hunters had come and gone, all failing and the Demon in Sammy's body killing them while Sammy could only watch.

"No, Sammy. It's not too late. We can get you help," Dean said holding back sobs. "Dad! Help me lift him!"

John, holding back tears of his own, humored his eldest son. He gingerly lifted his youngest, the son he thought he had lost at six months, up and started walking with Dean towards the exit. Sammy then started coughing up blood. Dean and John gently laid him down.

"Come on, Sammy! You can't leave me! I…I need to know my baby brother! Sammy, no! I love you, Sammy!" Dean wailed, whispering the last sentance.

"Dean, it's…it's Sam," Sammy said with a weak half grin. The Demon had called him Sammy, mocking how Dean had. He hated his name now. All those long twenty years Sam had hung onto snippets of memories, his brother's voice, the feel of his dad's rough beard against his smooth baby hand, his mother's soft loving eyes. Sam let go of the memories and let his hand go limp in Dean's. Sam's eyes fluttered closed and would never open again. Dean broke down with silent sobs and held his brother tight. John stepped back to let Dean have a minute. John was crying silently. Now it really was just him and Dean. John always had this feeling that they weren't alone. But now that feeling was gone for good.

Dean would never be the same. He hunted nothing but the Demon that had killed his brother. Three years later Dean shot the Demon with the Colt. That very same day, Dean stopped hunting. He never dated again, much less get married. He was never sure why, but somewhere in the back of his brain he was too scared to love someone again. Dean never saw his father again after he stopped hunting. He fell into depression. Only one thing gave him happiness, but it was bittersweet. People say that brothers have a strong connection. Sam and Dean had that, so when Sammy, said, "It's Sam," he really meant, "I love you too, Dean."

Author's Note: So? Too much angst? What do you think? Help me out for future ones!!


End file.
